


Malfoys Never Get What They Want

by cami_soul



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Albus Dumbledore Lives, Community: hd_erised, Drinking, Dubious Consent Due To Accidental Bonding, Explicit Sexual Content, Firewhiskey (Harry Potter), Fluff and Smut, Frottage, H/D Erised 2018, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hedwig (Harry Potter) Lives, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Shower Sex, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-08-27 20:12:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16709257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cami_soul/pseuds/cami_soul
Summary: Hogwarts has been different this year, at least for Harry Potter and his friends.  The school had been rebuilt over the summer and was pretty much back to normal unless you were returning to redo your seventh year.  But just as Harry had started to settle comfortably into the school year, weird things had started to happen that Harry could find no explanation for.  Draco had started to be nice to him, and then there was that kiss!  Harry was just trying to figure things out when he and Draco were accidentally bonded!  What will this bond do to the fragile relationship they were forging?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CelestialCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialCat/gifts).



> To my giftee, I hope my story pleases you. I enjoyed trying to write a story you would like. Thank you very much to L for the beta-read! I really appreciated her support! All mistakes and errors that remain are my own. Thank you to the mods for running this fest. I’m so excited to be participating. 
> 
> All the events in book seven happened with two major exceptions. Both Dumbledore and Hedwig survived. Do I feel they are the most worthy, and that’s why I had them survive? No. It is purely a whim. So go ahead and imagine any character that you want to, survived the war. They can still be alive in this story, I don’t reference any of the deaths.

Hogwarts was different this year, at least for Harry Potter and his friends. The school had been rebuilt over the summer, and was pretty much back to normal unless you were returning to redo your seventh year. Only twenty-seven students had chosen to return and retake their seventh year, fourteen boys and thirteen girls. There was a mix from all four houses. Because the dormitories had not been built to contain an eighth year class, and the board did not want to mix the ‘eighth years’ in with the regular seventh years, a new common room and dormitories were created for the eighth years. 

Pains had been taken to decorate in a mix of house colors so that all the students would feel welcome. The common room had a large fireplace dominating one wall; another wall was filled with floor to ceiling windows. Comfortable couches and overstuffed chairs were grouped around the spacious room, ready for the students to study or socialize. The boys’ dorms were off a hallway to the left, and the girls off to the right. 

There were five bedrooms and a shared hall bathroom in the boys’ hallway. Harry was rooming with Blaise and Ernie. Ron was in with Theo and Terry. Neville had been placed in with Draco and Michael. Seamus, Anthony and Justin were together, and Dean and Wayne were lucky enough to only have two in their room. 

Harry missed rooming with his Gryffindor friends, of course, but this new arrangement was working out better than he could have hoped. It turned out that Blaise was funny and he treated Harry just like a regular bloke. Ernie was mostly gone from their room studying, so Harry and Blaise were left to be as ridiculous as they pleased, often accompanied by Ron. Neville had been nervous to room with Malfoy, but he had relaxed after the first week. Neville had reported to Harry that Malfoy was surprisingly quiet and tidy, and didn’t seem inclined to bother anyone. 

Harry had seen some of these changes in Malfoy firsthand. There was a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year. Thaddeus Thropwaite had come from Ilvermorny to teach at Hogwarts. Professor Thropwaite had decided that he would assign partners for the entire year and, of course, Harry had been paired with Malfoy. It hadn’t been as painful as he had expected. For one thing, Malfoy hardly ever spoke to him. No insults, no cutting remarks, and no sarcastic songs. When they did have to speak for class, he was polite and stayed focused on the lesson at hand. Harry slowly started to relax around him, and was beginning to appreciate his intelligence. It nearly rivaled Hermione’s. But just as Harry had started to settle comfortably into the school year, weird things had started to happen that Harry could find no explanation for. 

For one, there was the strange thing that happened in the library. Harry had been returning from the stacks, his arms weighed down with a pile of books for his History of Magic assignment. He walked over to where other students were sitting and working at tables. He saw Malfoy sitting alone at a table, his parchments and books spread across the whole surface. As he drew nearer, he watched Malfoy draw his wand and move the books and papers into neat stacks, leaving half of the table now clear. Harry was so startled he halted in his tracks. Malfoy hadn’t said anything or even looked at him, but Harry couldn’t shake the idea that he had cleared this space for him. Harry sat in the empty chair and plopped his books down. “Thanks,” he mumbled quietly. 

At first Harry thought Malfoy would just ignore what he had said, but after a long pause he heard a whispered, “You’re welcome.” They worked silently side by side for nearly three hours. Harry had expected to feel jumpy and nervous, but he hadn’t. He had felt comfortable working alongside Malfoy, and he had gotten a lot done. 

After the first time, it had become a regular thing. Whenever Harry studied in the library he seemed to come across Malfoy, and Malfoy would always make room for him at his table. Harry had even asked Malfoy the occasional question about their homework and Malfoy had been helpful and hadn’t made fun of Harry even once. 

And then there was the kiss. It had started innocently enough, a game of Truth or Dare enhanced with revealing charms that turned your hands red if you lied. It had been the usual silly questions and dares until Michael Corner asked Blaise if he liked girls or boys. 

Now, despite recent history seeming to indicate the opposite, Harry tried to be a laid back kind of guy. You don’t bother me and I won’t bother you. But on the question of sexuality, Harry was quite passionate. He had been wrestling with his own sexual identity, for the last few months. And he firmly believed no one had the right to out anyone else. And that was what he said. Before Blaise could utter a single syllable Harry interjected, “That’s not OK! What kind of a question is that? You can’t make someone out themselves, Michael! Blaise you do not have to answer that.” 

Blaise smiled warmly at Harry, “That’s okay, Harry. Thanks for that, but I’m okay with answering the question. I have nothing to hide.” He flashed his most charming smile around the circle. “I like both. The answer is, I like both.” 

An uncomfortable silence descended around the circle. Only Seamus and Dean were smiling and meeting his eyes. Everyone else was looking everywhere else, even Malfoy and Pansy who Harry knew were Blaise’s closest friends. All Harry’s Gryffindor tendencies rushed to the fore. “Me too . . . er, I mean . . . uh, I like both too,” he blurted out. All those eyes that had been looking elsewhere, now focused on Harry. He turned red but he held his head high. 

Blaise threw his arm around Harry and gave him a side hug, “That’s great Harry! We’ll have enough for our own Quidditch team in no time at all!” Blaise’s joke seemed to break the tension and everyone was soon laughing and smiling. Everyone but Malfoy, who was frowning and staring at Blaise and Harry. 

Harry supposed it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Malfoy was a homophobe considering his previous prejudice against Muggles, but it made Harry unaccountably angry. The game moved on and the spotlight was no longer on Blaise and Harry, but every time he gazed in Malfoy’s direction he found him looking right back with a frown on his face. Harry was pulled from his speculations when he heard Malfoy’s name. 

“Draco, kiss the person you’re most attracted to,” Pansy directed. 

“Hey! That’s just as bad as Michael’s question!” Harry objected. 

“Okay. Calm down Potter!” Pansy squinted round the circle. “I’ll change it . . . Draco, just kiss Potter then.” 

“What the hell?” Harry asked no one in particular. 

“You know he won’t mind, Draco, he just said he likes boys too.” Pansy smirked and ignored Harry’s comment.” 

“I think Dra . . . uh, Malfoy is the one who will mind, Pansy,” Harry challenged. But even before he had finished talking, Harry could see Malfoy crawling across the circle towards him, a determined expression on his face. Before he knew it Malfoy was in front of him, his grey eyes piercing Harry’s. 

Malfoy clamped his hand on the back of Harry’s neck and dragged him close. His lips pressed firmly to Harry’s own. They were so warm, almost hot, and Harry had not been expecting that. If he had thought about Malfoy’s lips at all he would have imagined them being cool, as cool as his ice grey eyes and pale moonlight hair. But they weren’t, they were hot and they ignited Harry. Malfoy’s mouth moved over Harry’s, his lips firm and soft, pressing and sucking – and fuck, what was happening. 

Before Harry could get his brain working and respond in kind, the kiss was over and Malfoy had retreated to his side of the circle. Malfoy flashed a smug smile in Blaise’s direction, and then the game continued. Harry spent the remainder of the game in a daze. He couldn’t have said what happened or even what questions he himself had answered. That night in his bed, he replayed the kiss over and over in his head trying to figure out why it had happened and what it meant. 

It was true that he thought Malfoy was a fit bloke. “Who wouldn’t?” he thought. Tall and slim, he had firm muscles without being bulky and pale blond hair that fell perfectly around his face each day. And speaking of his face, his pointy nose just fit in with the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones. His lips, those surprisingly warm lips, were the softest palest pink and were just this side of too full. But most captivating of all were his eyes. His blond lashes, a shade darker than his hair, framed his dark grey eyes. Grey that reminded Harry of a stormy sea or a thunder cloud. Not that Harry had spent much time think about Malfoy. It was just that he was so hard to miss that naturally Harry’s gaze would be drawn to him. That really wasn’t Harry’s fault. And now that Malfoy had kissed him, Harry was having a hard time dislodging Malfoy’s image from his brain. But that was totally normal, right? 


	2. Chapter 2

Apparently kissing Harry was no big deal because it had been over a week and Malfoy had said nothing to Harry. In fact his behavior hadn’t changed one bit. He was polite in DADA, and they continued to study together in the library. It was as if the kiss had never happened. Only the persistent tingling of Harry’s lips whenever he looked in Malfoy’s direction convinced him that he hadn’t imagined the whole thing. 

When Thropwaite announced that Bill Weasley would be coming as a guest lecturer on the topic of curses, it pleased Harry for multiple reasons. Firstly, he would enjoy seeing Bill again, especially under happier circumstances. Secondly, he wasn’t all that convinced of Thropwaite’s credentials but he knew they would receive quality information from Bill. And, lastly, he was looking forward to having something else to think about other than the feel of Malfoy’s mouth on his own. 

The students eagerly entered the DADA classroom this Thursday. Professor Thropwaite had promised them that he was giving them some hands on practice. He had obtained some cursed objects that were considered “trainers.” They were the same kind that the Aurors used. The objects were cursed with mild, non-lethal curses, so that the students could practice identifying and then breaking the curses. 

As Harry took his seat, next to a stiffly sitting Malfoy, he could see a pile of everyday objects sitting on a table at the front of the room. Thropwaite addressed the class, “Students, as you can see we will be using the trainers today. I have written the Curse Revealing Spell on the board. I want you to take a few minutes to practice the words with your partners. I will be levitating the objects over to your desks. And even though the curses placed on these objects are mild, do not, I repeat, do not touch any of these objects directly! You will use your wands to cast the Revealing Spell and there will be no reason for you to touch the cursed object.” Thropwaite paused to look sternly around the room. “Is that clear?” 

“Yes, Professor,” they all dutifully chorused. 

While Thropwaite floated a cursed object over to each pair’s desk, Malfoy copied down the new spell and began to practice it. “Now when you cast the Revealing Spell,” Professor Thropwaite was speaking again, “the results should show as symbols around the object. Use the chart that we completed last week as a reference to determine the nature of the curse.” After he finished talking, he floated an ornate hairbrush onto Harry and Malfoy’s desk. It was polished silver with ornate scrollwork decorating it. Harry had the random thought that it looked like something that might be at home on Malfoy’s own dresser. 

“I’ll cast first,” Malfoy said. “You can copy down the symbols so that we will be able to decipher them.” 

“Why do you get to cast the spell?” Harry objected. 

“Honestly, Potter! Do you even know the spell?” Malfoy pinned Harry with a dark look. 

“Fine,” Harry gave in grudgingly, “you can cast first and I’ll copy some of the symbols, but then we can switch. I’m not getting stuck copying down all of the symbols.” Harry looked around where some of his classmates had already successfully cast and each object had quite a large number of symbols surrounding it. 

“Fine,” Malfoy agreed with a curt nod. Then he lifted his wand and cast the Revealing Spell, only instead of seeing the expected symbols all Harry could see was a blue light. It seemed like a blue light was all around both Harry and Malfoy. 

“This isn’t right! Try it again,” Harry complained. Malfoy said the spell again but there was no change and the blue light remained covering them. They had gained the professor’s attention and Harry could see he was bustling his way over to them. Wanting to solve this before they got chewed out by the teacher, Harry acted quickly. “Here let me try,” he said grabbing Malfoy’s wrist to get his wand. 

As soon as Harry touched Malfoy the blue light disappeared. “What are you doing, Potter?” Malfoy shook off Harry’s hand. 

“Let me try now,” Harry said in rushed whisper, trying to get this fixed before the professor reached them, but when he cast the spell nothing happened. 

“Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, what is happening here?” Professor Thropwaite said as he rushed to their desk. “What was that blue light? Did either of you touch anything?” 

“We cast the spell correctly, Professor,” Malfoy defended. “We didn’t touch the object.” 

“Step back,” the professor ordered and both boys moved back. Thropwaite cast a different spell on the hairbrush but nothing visible happened. “That is curious,” he mumbled to himself. “Alright, students,” Thropwaite said in a loud voice. “I think that is enough for today. We will continue tomorrow. Class dismissed.” He levitated the brush back up to the front of the room. 

Harry stuffed his parchment carelessly into his bag. Malfoy had stopped to look something up in a book, so Harry left him and moved to join Hermione and Ron who were closer to the back of the room. The trio had just reached the doorway when Harry felt a stabbing pain move through his body. It felt almost like _Crucio_ , and he had a hard time catching his breath. The pain coursed through his body again and Harry cried out, ”Aaaaaah!” 

“Harry, what’s happening?” Hermione clutched his arm and looked at him worryingly. 

Harry tried to speak but the pain was too great. Ron and Hermione dragged him back into the room to sit at a desk. “Professor!” Ron shouted. The pain receded slightly. 

Professor Thropwaite hurried toward them, followed by Blaise and Theo supporting Malfoy between them. “Are you sure neither of you touched anything?” Thropwaite asked again. Blaise, Malfoy and Theo leaned against the desk where Harry was sitting. 

Hermione was crouched down next to Harry, pushing his damp hair away from his face. “It’s starting to go away,” Harry said shakily. 

“Well don’t rush to stand up,” Hermione said firmly. 

“What the fuck was that?” Malfoy asked his voice raw and rough. 

“I am not certain,” Professor Thropwaite began, “but we need to get both of you to the infirmary right away. Miss Parkinson, and Miss Bulstrode, would you please notify the Headmaster that he is needed in the infirmary, immediately?” 

The rest of them moved as a group up to the infirmary. Theo and Blaise still supporting Malfoy, and Ron and Hermione doing the same for Harry. Thropwaite hurried ahead and when they reached the hospital wing, he was busy conferring with Madame Pomfrey. 

“Sit them down over here.” She turned toward the students and indicated two nearby hospital beds. “Good, good. Now, the rest of you students need to head back to class. I will take good care of Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy. If they are still here, you may see them during visiting hours tonight.” 

Dumbledore arrived just as their friends left. He huddled with Thropwaite, speaking in hushed tones while Madam Pomfrey started in on diagnostic spells. 

“Can you tell us what’s happening?” Harry called out toward the two wizards. 

“Let me find out some more information first, please, Mr. Potter,” Pomfrey replied calmly as she continued with her casting. 

“Well, it’s fairly obvious I’d say, Potter. We’ve clearly been cursed,” Malfoy drawled. “It’s apparent that the American cocked it up.” 

“Calm down gentlemen,” Dumbledore said as he moved toward them. “Can you recount to me what happened?” 

“Malfoy mucked up the spell,” Harry muttered angrily. 

“I did no such thing!” Malfoy fired back. “You are the one who reached for my hand while I was still casting.” 

“That’s because it wasn’t working!” Harry shouted. 

“Enough!” Dumbledore said firmly. “Mr. Malfoy, what happened when you cast the Curse Detection Spell?” 

Malfoy looked over at Harry and glared, before turning toward the headmaster. “I cast the spell exactly as it was written on the board, but nothing happened. Well, nothing but a blue light that is.” 

“Hhhhm.” Dumbledore stroked his beard in thought. “What area did this blue light encompass?” 

“It fell over our table, and . . . over Potter and I.” Malfoy pressed his lips together in a hard line. 

Dumbledore turned toward Harry. “And is that when you grabbed his wand, Mr. Potter?” 

“I didn’t grab it,” Harry said defensively. “I mean, he wouldn't stop and let me try and he obviously wasn’t doing anything.” Harry’s cheeks filled with warm color as he squirmed under Dumbledore’s piercing gaze. “I mean . . . it wasn’t, er . . . I couldn’t see any . . . yeah,” Harry sighed, “that’s when I grabbed the wand.” 

“Did you touch just the wand, or did you touch Mr. Malfoy?” the older wizard continued his questioning. 

Even more color flooded Harry’s face at the way the question was worded. Looking down at his shoes, Harry answered, “I grabbed his wrist.” 

“What happened then?” Dumbledore asked. 

“Nothing. Well, the blue light went away and I tried to cast the Detection Spell a few times, but nothing happened,” Harry said defensively. 

“Did you feel anything, when you two touched?” Dumbledore asked them both. Both boys’ faces turned red this time and they quickly looked away from each other, answering no. “Alright then, give us a minute to confer.” He then pulled both Madam Pomfrey and Thropwaite over into a conversation. 

“If you hadn’t grabbed me we wouldn’t be in this mess, Potter,” Malfoy hissed angrily. 

“I’m not the one who botched the spell in the first place!” Harry shot back. 

The teachers walked back over to them and they fell silent. Madam Pomfrey spoke for the group, “The curse that was triggered was some sort of a bond, and you were bonded to each other when you touched. We don’t know the full terms of the bond at this point, but we know from your pain that there is a proximity element. Mr. Weasley will be arrive by the morning to help us sort it all out.” She took a deep fortifying breath. “Mr. Malfoy, we would prefer to wait and contact your parents when we have more definitive information, but if you wish it – we will notify them immediately.” 

“No, we can wait,” Malfoy was quick to answer. “No need to bother them.” 

They had their bookbags, so they spent the remainder of the afternoon reading and doing homework. Their friends all trooped in after dinner to see how they were. By some unspoken agreement, both Harry and Malfoy remained tight lipped with their friends about the nature of the curse. 

After their friends had left, Madam Pomfrey brought them each a pair of pajamas. She then placed a screen between them, so that they could have privacy when they changed but remain in close proximity. The next minutes were awkward for Harry. Each rustle of cloth from the other side of the screen had him imagining Malfoy removing another piece of clothing, until he was thinking about Malfoy naked and starting to get an unwelcome hard-on. He rushed to finish changing his own clothes and practically jumped into his bed so he could pile the blankets over his groin and disguise his arousal. 

He heard Malfoy’s bed creak right before Pomfrey bustled back in .“All set then gentlemen?” She whisked the screen away. “All right then, you will both spend the night here. If the pain comes back, we can push the beds together,” she said matter-of-factly. 

Harry tossed and turned most of the night, uncomfortable sleeping so close to Malfoy. He could hear every little sigh and rustle from the other bed. His brain putting unhelpful images to each little sound. They both awoke with pain in the middle of the night and instead of waking Madam Pomfrey, they just moved the beds together themselves. Then they both turned on their sides facing away from each other, to fall into a restless sleep. 


	3. Chapter 3

Bright sunlight streaming through the windows and into his eyes woke Harry the next moment. His eyes were scratchy and sore, he rubbed at them unhappily thinking about his awful night. His mood turned even sourer as he looked over to see Malfoy sitting up primly, a small smile on his face, sipping a cup of tea. 

“Not a morning person?” Malfoy quipped, raising one eyebrow and smirking. 

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Harry grouched, aware that he was being unreasonable but unable to stop himself. “Happy to find yourself bonded to me, are you?” 

Malfoy’s face fell. “No, I’m not, Potter. Hard as that may be for you to wrap your brain around. Not everyone believes the sun shines out of your arse. You should’ve gotten yourself bonded to Blaise.” 

Before Harry could respond to that ridiculous idea, Madam Pomfrey returned and brought Harry a cup of tea too. “Glad to see you are awake at last, Mr. Potter,” she chirped. 

“I didn’t sleep well,” Harry grumbled defensively. 

“Be that as it may, you both need to change and go to the Headmaster’s office. He is waiting to speak to you,” she informed them. She brought the screen back over but since the beds were now pushed together, there wasn’t room for it. She placed it instead, perpendicular to the end of the beds. Then she levitated their folded clothing and set them at the foot of the bed. 

Malfoy moved off the bed and stood next to it. Harry tried to get out of bed on his side, but as he swung his legs over the side and started to stand his whole body started aching. He stopped and flopped back onto the bed. He turned his head and looked over to where Malfoy was bent over and clutching the bedpost. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he rolled over onto Malfoy’s bed and got out of bed that way. They walked together over to the screen and then Harry went to the other side of it. They dressed quickly, each anxious to hear what Dumbledore had to tell them. 

They made their way to the office entrance being careful not to stray too far apart. The staircase revealed itself on their approach, and they soon found themselves seated in front of Dumbledore’s desk. 

“How are you both feeling this morning?” Dumbledore asked them. They both muttered quick and insincere assurances that they were fine. “Mr. Weasley should arrive sometime this morning and he will get right to work solving this curse. But in the meantime we have made some arrangements to help ease the situation,” Dumbledore paused briefly and then continued, “We have moved Mr. Thomas and Mr. Hopkins into your dormitories’, leaving the one they occupied free for the two of you. Your belongings have already been moved there for you.” Dumbledore paused again, longer this time, to let this news sink in. 

“Based on last night’s necessity, we have installed a double bed in that room. We have also connected a private bathroom to the bedchamber.” His piercing gaze fell over each boy, in turn. “It may soon be quite awkward for you to use the common bathroom.” 

Harry closed his eyes as waves of embarrassment, anger, frustration, and arousal swept over him. Everyone would know. They would know he and Malfoy were sharing a room, and they would be speculating about what else they were sharing. But then again, he was going to share a room with Malfoy! 

His attention was drawn back to Dumbledore when he resumed speaking, “Luckily, most of your classes are already the same. Harry, you will need to join Draco for his Arithmancy class. And, Draco, you will join Harry when he tutors the first years in flying.” Malfoy’s startled gaze swung over to Harry, at Dumbledore’s last statement. 

Dumbledore continued, “We want you to try and go through your day as normally as possible.” The twin snorts that came from the boys in front of him didn’t stop him. “Mr. Weasley and Professor Thropwaite will be working on a solution. We will keep you apprised of progress. In the meantime, try and make the best of things.” He sent them both a benign smile that looked out of place. “Do either of you have any questions?” Harry and Malfoy both shook their heads no. “All right then, off to class with you both,” Dumbledore dismissed them. 

Harry walked out automatically, his brain to busy trying to process his new reality. Before he knew it they were standing in front of the door to Transfiguration. They found seats on a bench at the back and pulled out their parchment and quills. Professor McGonagall gave them a small nod, and then continued on with her lecture. 


	4. Chapter 4

Harry ached, he throbbed, and he needed to come so badly. He was so hard! It had been three days of living with Malfoy side by side, and three days of pure torture. Before being cursed, Harry had lived the life of a normal eighteen year old boy. 

Wank in the morning with bed curtains spelled and Silencing Charms in place, then sometimes another wank in the shower (slippery just felt so good), and always a bedtime wank just before falling asleep. 

But with Malfoy plastered to his side, he had been unable to relieve his aching cock even once. It was Friday morning, and he had woken up with full on morning wood. Opening his eyes to see Malfoy still sleeping didn’t help one bit. His long lashes fanned against his cheeks and his lips were parted the tiniest bit. He looked so soft and approachable like this. Harry knew the softness would only last a few seconds as he awoke, and then the hard expression would come onto his face and he would be cold and remote once again. 

The tentative truce that they had fostered earlier in the year had disintegrated with the arrival of the curse. The few times Malfoy addressed him directly, his voice was cold and cutting. And even though they needed to remain in proximity, Malfoy managed to never touch Harry directly. 

Even with the cold hard Malfoy mask back in place, he still fascinated Harry. And Harry fantasized about what it would be like to melt Malfoy’s cold reserve. What if he could get Malfoy to kiss him again? This time Harry would respond wholeheartedly. His dick twitched at the thought and reminded Harry of his predicament. 

Maybe if he was really quiet? He took another look at Malfoy’s sleeping face. He slowly rolled over and put his back toward the other man. Harry held his breath while he waited to see if Malfoy woke up. There was no movement or sound from behind him, so Harry slowly let out his breath. 

Harry moved his right hand to rest on his stomach and held his breath again. Was he really going to do this? Right next to Malfoy? His cock twitched again, and Harry slowly slid his hand down his stomach, pausing at the elastic waistband of his pajama bottoms. Harry bit down on his lower lips as he eased his fingers under the waistband. His free hand flew up to his mouth to silence the groan he made when his fingers finally closed around his hard dick. 

Oh, fuck! This felt good! He squeezed just right as he moved his hand along his shaft. Another small moan broke free. He needed this so badly. He wanted to speed up, but he kept his hand motions slow, not wanting to jostle the bed. His thumb swept over the head and pushed around the wet stickiness that was leaking there. Fuckfuckfuck! 

A small breathy sound made Harry freeze. What was that? Had he woken Malfoy? He felt the weight and warmth of Malfoy’s body roll toward his own. Malfoy’s lips brushed Harry’s neck and his hot breath skated across it. “Don’t stop.” Malfoys voice was low and urgent. 

“What . . ?” Harry was confused. Was Malfoy saying what he thought he was saying? 

“Don’t. Stop. Touching. Your. Dick!” Malfoy whispered. Harry shuddered, as it all hit him. Malfoy knew he was wanking, and he wanted Harry to keep doing it while he was right there. Malfoy rested his forehead against Harry’s neck and moaned. Harry could feel the bed moving behind him. 

“Oh, fuck!” Harry groaned. Malfoy was wanking too! Harry resumed the slide of his hand over his aching flesh. He sped up now that he didn’t have to worry about waking Malfoy. He pushed his hips into his hand and moaned loudly. He was going to come quickly. This was too much after so long. 

Malfoy’s free hand gripped Harry’s shoulder and he felt his hot breath across his neck. The added sensations were enough to tip Harry over the edge and then he was coming hard, all over his hand and the inside of his pajamas. As the aftershocks rolled through his body, he felt Malfoy shudder and moan into his neck. 

Then all was silent except for the sounds of their heavy breaths as they quieted down. Even as his body wanted to relax into nothingness, Harry’s brain started racing. What had they just done? Malfoy had urged him on, and had touched himself too! Did this mean something? Did Harry want it to? 

The bed moved as Malfoy sat up and swung his feet over his side of the bed. Harry heard him say ‘ _Scourgify_ ’ and then the tingling sensation swept over him as the sticky mess was removed from his skin and his pajama bottoms. 

“Thanks,” Harry said, still not turning around to look at Malfoy because he was too afraid of what he might see in his face. He heard the other boy move over to his wardrobe and felt the familiar tug in his midsection that always preceded the pain when they moved too far apart. Harry debated whether he could get away with getting out on his side of the bed, or if the pain would be too severe. 

He decided it wasn’t worth the risk and rolled over to Malfoy’s side of the bed to get out. He paused for a minute with his head on Malfoy’s pillow when the distinctive sharp citrus scent overwhelmed him. What the hell was happening to him? Was this part of the curse? All he wanted to do was lay here surrounded by Malfoy’s scent. He even felt his cock responding, starting to harden all over again. 

With an annoyed groan, Harry tore himself out of the bed and over to his wardrobe next to Malfoy’s. They had come up with a routine, of sorts. The doors of the wardrobes were fairly wide, so they opened them up and stood behind them to change. They were only a foot or so apart, but they had the illusion of privacy and that was much needed. 

Once Harry was on his side, he could hear cloth rustling and knew Malfoy was getting dressed. They still hadn’t spoken, aside from the cleaning charm and his muttered thanks, but this was typical of the last few days. Apparently, their morning activity wasn’t going to change this. 


	5. Chapter 5

The rest of the day passed normally, or what passed for normal since the curse. They ate their meals together at the end of one of the house tables. In fact all of the eighth years had started sitting at different tables for each meal. This new habit had rubbed off on the lower year students and many of them had also taken to sitting at the tables of different houses. So Harry and Malfoy ended up sitting at the end of whatever table was convenient. Most of the time they were joined by Ron, Hermione, Blaise and Pansy. Their four friends formed a formidable wall of protection against the curious and overly nosy. 

After dinner they headed to the DADA classroom. They were going to meet with Bill and Professor Thropwaite and find out the progress they were having with breaking the curse. Bill got up and gave Harry a bone crushing hug as a greeting. Malfoy grabbed at Harry’s arm, squeezing his bicep like he was going to drag him away. Bill stepped back quickly and threw up his hands. “Sorry, Malfoy.” Harry looked back and forth between them. Malfoy glowering darkly at Bill and Bill backed away slowly. 

“What’s going on?” Harry asked. 

“Why don’t we all sit and talk?” Thropwaite said, gesturing to the chairs clustered at the front of the classroom. 

Malfoy released Harry and they all moved to the front of the room and sat down. “Well,” Bill began, “Here’s what we know so far. The curse is one that used to be used frequently in arranged wizarding marriages. It requires proximity of the cursed parties or they will feel pain similar to a _Crucio_.” 

Both boys nodded at this and Harry was reminded once again about how many experiences they both shared. Bill grimaced and then continued, “This may be a progressive curse.” 

Harry frowned and asked, “What does that mean?” 

Malfoy answered him, his voice hard, “He means it will likely get worse.” 

“Worse! How can it get worse?” Harry exclaimed. 

“The distance needed to remain pain free may lessen and lessen,” Bill said quietly. When he saw Harry’s confusion, he clarified, “You may need to physically touch at all times.” 

“Touch all the time?” Harry repeated trying to process this new information. 

Malfoy didn’t seem to have the same problem. “Tell us the rest of it,” he insisted. 

“There may be feelings of aggression if someone else touches your bondmate,” Thropwaite inserted into the conversation, his eyes flicking between Bill, Harry and Malfoy. “And some of these curses had a consummation component. We don’t know yet if this one does.” 

Knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer, Harry asked anyway, “What’s a consummation component?” He addressed his question to Bill, wanting to hear the answer from a man he trusted. 

Bill cleared his throat before answering, “Uh, you may, uh . . . the curse might require you to . . .” 

“What he’s trying to say is that we might have to have sex,” Malfoy interrupted. Both boys’ faces turned bright red. 

“We don’t know that this will happen,” Bill rushed to reassure them. 

“How . . . er, how would we know?” Harry asked quietly. 

“You would feel compelled to . . . do . . . certain acts. And you would feel pain if you resisted the compulsion.” Bill was looking around the room refusing to meet their eyes. 

Malfoy interrupted the lengthening silence, “How in Merlin’s name did this happen in the first place?” 

Thropwaite responded again, “We have determined that the trainer was intentionally tampered with. We don’t yet know why or by whom.” 

“You mean Malfoy and I were cursed on purpose?” Harry’s voice conveyed his anger and shock. It had been one thing to think that they had made a mistake and unintentionally triggered this curse, but it was something else entirely to know that someone had intended for this to happen to him. He turned to Bill again. “What happens if you don’t break it?” 

“I will break it Harry. I’m very good at what I do.” Bill looked him in the eye this time. He even started to put his hand on Harry’s knee for comfort, but pulled his hand back at the last moment, darting a glance at Malfoy. 

“If that is everything, we will return to our room now.” Malfoy’s mouth was pressed into a hard flat line. 

“We’ll let you know when we make some more progress,” Bill assured them. 

They left the room and walked back to their dorm without speaking. Both of them were too busy thinking about all of the information they had been given. 

They brushed off the concern of their friends sitting in the common room, and headed straight for their room. No sooner had the door shut behind them when Malfoy said, “I don’t know about you, Potter, but I need a drink!” 

“Er, uh sure,” Harry said. “But I don’t think they will let us go to Hogsmeade this late.” 

“Lucky for us we won’t need to.” He grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him back out the door. 

“What? What are you doing?” Harry squawked. 

“Shhhh!” Malfoy shushed him. “We need to be quiet.” Harry’s head spun as they went down the hall and into his old room, but he kept his mouth shut. “Now . . . Blaise always keeps a well-stocked stash.” He walked over to Blaise’s trunk and spelled it open. Malfoy rummaged around and came up with a very large bottle of Firewhisky. “Aha!” He held it up triumphantly. Then he promptly dragged Harry back down to their room. 

Malfoy kicked off his shoes and headed toward their bed. Not really understanding what was going on, Harry followed suit. When they were both sitting up against the headboard Malfoy opened the whisky, put the bottle to his lips and threw back his head to swallow. Harry watched with fascination as his Adam’s apple moved when he swallowed. 

Harry was so lost in his appreciation he almost didn’t notice when Malfoy held the bottle out to him. Without thinking about it he took a mouthful and swallowed, coughing and choking as the fire hit his throat. He leaned forward trying to catch his breath and Malfoy gave him a few good thumps on his back. “It figures I’m bonded to a lightweight, Potter,” Malfoy complained. 

“Just wasn’t expecting it,” Harry rasped. He sat back up and watched as Malfoy took two more drinks. He handed the bottle back to Harry and this time Harry took a more moderate drink, gasping only a little this time. 

After passing the bottle back and forth for several minutes, Malfoy spoke again. “It’s just my luck to be partners with the Savior of the Wizarding World,” Malfoy groused. “Why couldn’t you have been partners with Longbottom? Then he would be cursed, not me.” 

“You think this is because of me?” Harry asked indignantly. He was starting to feel very fuzzy about things, but this still didn’t seem right. 

“Of course it is!” Malfoy took another long drink and then stared down at his hands. “It’s my fault though. I should have objected. Made Thropplepuff change it. Demanded to be partners with anyone but, Potter.” He took another long drink and then passed it back to Harry. “But I was weak.” 

“Whah?” Harry’s head was spinning so he leaned over onto Malfoy. “You’re nah weak! You . . . you’re . . . so strong.” Harry reached over and squeezed Malfoy’s bicep, “See? Strong!” 

“Not that kind of weak, idiot.” Malfoy turned and smiled at Harry, taking all of the sting from the insult. “I had a dream, and I let myself believe it could be true.” He made a face and grabbed the bottle back from Harry. “I should have remembered, Malfoys never get what they want. It’s just the way things are.” 

Harry tried to sit up from where he was slouching on Malfoy but when he started to fall the other way, Malfoy grabbed his shirt and yanked him back upright. “What . . . uh, what did you want?” 

Malfoy gave a mirthless laugh. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” 

“Why is the room spinning?” Harry giggled. He closed his eyes to see if it would stop but that made it worse. He opened his eyes again and they landed on Malfoy. His hair was mussed up and his eyes were bright. They had both tossed off their robes a few drinks ago. Malfoy had taken off his tie and opened the first two buttons on his shirt, Harry could see the shadow of his collarbone and he was hit with the impulse to lick all along it. 

Suddenly he felt flush and his heart sped up. “Is it . . . is it getting hot in here?” Harry pulled at the collar of his t-shirt. Something must be wrong with the heating system all of a sudden. He looked back over at Malfoy, his lips were pink and slightly parted. Harry felt warm again and ripped his shirt over his head and tossed it over the side of the bed. 

“Harry! What the hell are you doing?” Malfoy sat up straight and his eyes blazed. 

“M’ hot.” Harry was starting to feel better, but thought he should really get rid of his trousers too. He reached down and started unfastening the flies. 

“Wait, Harry! You can’t just . . .” Malfoy held up both hands like he was shielding himself from Harry. 

Harry got his trousers unfastened and pulled them down his legs. That was so much better. He threw them over the side of the bed too. He looked over at Malfoy, he didn’t look so good. His face was flushed and his mouth was open, and it looked like he was having trouble breathing. “Draco? Are you okay?” Harry leaned closer to peer into Malfoy’s eyes. 

“Harry, what the fuck? Get . . .” Malfoy put up his hands to push Harry away and they landed on Harry’s bare chest. Malfoy froze with his mouth open and his hands holding onto Harry. 

Harry’s heart pounded in his chest. His moved his hands to Malfoy’s waist to steady himself. What had they been talking about? Hadn’t Malfoy said something about wanting something? “What did you want, Draco?” Harry’s voice came out as a strangled whisper. 

Malfoy closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, but his hands started to move, gently mapping the muscles of Harry’s chest. Harry dropped his forehead and rested it on Malfoy’s shoulder. His head felt so heavy and the room was still spinning. He tried to think, he knew there was something important he was missing. “We should sleep now,” Malfoy whispered in his ear, pulling Harry down onto the bed. He ended up lying half on top of Malfoy, but was too comfortable to move. He heard Malfoy cast _Nox_ , and right before he fell asleep Harry felt lips brush his forehead. 


	6. Chapter 6

As the sunlight slanted across his closed eyelids, pain throbbed in his head and Harry felt like something had crawled into his mouth and died. “Good morning, Boy Who Lived!” shards of Draco’s voice sliced into his head. Harry moaned as quietly as he could and tried to pull his pillow over his head. “Here,” Draco was shouting at Harry again, as he thrust a glass bottle into his hand. “Drink that.” 

Hoping that Draco was poisoning him, Harry kept his eyes closed but lifted his head just enough to drink the contents of the bottle. When he finished he thrust the empty bottle back towards Draco and flopped back onto the bed. After a minute his head eased and his stomach settled. “Hangover potion?” he spoke with his eyes still closed. 

“Hangover potion,” Draco affirmed. 

Harry risked opening his eyes. Draco was lying next to him propped up on one elbow. His smirk widened when he noticed Harry was looking at him. “Maybe next time you should stick to Butterbeer?” Draco chuckled. 

Harry made a face at Draco, only just stopping himself from sticking his tongue out at the other boy. He pushed up on his elbows and the blanket fell back to reveal his bare chest. “Aaah! Where are my clothes?” Harry looked at Draco accusingly, sure he must have had something to do with their disappearance. To his consternation, Draco started laughing. “What? What’s so funny?” Harry demanded. 

“You, hahaha.” Draco could hardly speak, he was laughing so hard. “You threw them over the side of the bed.” 

“I did not!” Harry was indignant. He was sure he hadn’t done that. Had he? Harry clutched the blanket, holding over his chest. He licked his suddenly dry lips, “Er . . . why? Why did I throw my clothes?” 

“To torture me?” Draco’s lips twisted into a wry expression. “I don’t know,” he continued. “You said you were hot.” 

“Oh.” Harry calmed down until he had another thought. “Did I . . . we . . . I, er . . . do anything else?” 

“What do you mean?” A frown creased Draco’s forehead, and then it suddenly cleared. He got an intense look in his eyes and he leaned toward Harry, “Well . . . you were a very generous lover.” 

All the air rushed out of Harry’s lungs and he couldn’t think straight. He and Draco had had sex, and he couldn’t remember any of it! 

Draco was continuing, his voice getting lower and deeper, “Merlin! The things you did with your tongue, Potter!” 

“Harry,” Harry automatically corrected, “Last night you called me Harry.” 

“Are you calling me Draco now?” Draco’s question came out as a challenge. 

“Guess I am . . . Draco.” Harry decided since he couldn’t remember last night, he better make some new memories. He lifted his left hand to the back of Draco’s neck and tugged the other man closer. He took advantage of Draco’s gasp of surprise when their lips met to slip his tongue into his mouth and slide against Draco’s tongue. Draco moaned into his mouth and Harry took that as a sign he was doing something right, and deepened their kiss. 

Harry reached out his free hand and clutched at the fabric of Draco’s shirt trying to drag him closer. The feel of the fabric made it through Harry’s lust clouded brain, there was something wrong about this, if only he could remember what it was? Harry pulled back abruptly, “Wait! Why are you wearing all your clothes? If we fucked, why are you dressed? I would have felt the pull if you had gone to your wardrobe to get dressed!” 

Draco glowered back at him, “I was joking about that, you prat! Nothing happened last night. After you stripped off, you passed out on me and snored all night.” Draco sat up and put as much distance between them as was comfortable. 

“Why? Why would you joke about that?” Harry was confused all over again. 

“Just forget it.” Draco turned away. “Breakfast is soon and we need to get going.” He slid from the bed, assuming that Harry would follow. 

Harry was not in a mood to cooperate. He had liked drinking with Draco last night. They had had fun. And this morning, Draco had been playful. But then he had talked about sex, and Harry had kissed him again. And it was amazing! But now Draco was acting like an arrogant arsehole again, and Harry didn’t much like that. He wanted to get a reaction out of Draco. 

“I want a shower!” Harry demanded. “It’s been almost a week and cleaning charms just aren’t cutting it!” Harry folded his arms across his bare chest as he stood in front of Draco wearing only his boxers. 

“That’s impossible, Potter.” Draco turned and started rummaging in his wardrobe. “How stupid are you? Or have you forgotten we are bonded?” Draco scoffed. 

“I haven’t forgotten. We can just shower together,” Harry said calmly. 

Draco whipped around to face Harry so quickly he dropped the clothes he was holding. “What?” he squawked. 

“Well, you could use a shower too. And, anyway, it’s just like after Quidditch,” Harry said defensively. 

“That’s not . . . I don’t . . .,” Draco sputtered. “Our shower is considerably smaller than the Slytherin locker room. There’s just not room.” 

Harry was enjoying flustered Draco, this was much better than the cold angry version. And now that he had had the idea for the shower, he couldn’t get the thought of showering with Draco out of his head. “Look, we can face in opposite directions if you’re squeamish.” Harry turned and started walking toward the bathroom. 

“Squeamish!” Draco screeched. 

Harry chuckled as he just kept walking. Their bond got painful for a brief moment, and then it relaxed when Draco started following. When he got to the bathroom, Harry reached into the shower cubicle and turned on the water. He spoke without turning around to look at Draco, “You better strip off, unless you want to get your clothes wet?” Harry heard and angry grumble as a response, and then he heard the rustle of clothing being removed. 

Without letting himself dwell too much on the idea of Draco removing all of his clothes, Harry shoved his boxers off and stepped into the shower spray. He ducked under the spray, getting his face and hair wet, and when he came out of it he could tell Draco was in the cubical behind him. Okay. This was happening then. Harry reached out for the soap on the shower ledge and moved to get out of the spray of water so he could lather up. 

With one step, Harry found his left side plastered up against a wet, naked, Draco. Both men froze. Harry could feel Draco’s cock against his hip, and it was filling out and getting harder the longer they stood there. “Uh . . . er, sorry . . .,” Harry moved away from Draco and back into the shower spray. 

Harry heard Draco mutter, “Going to kill me.” And then he felt Draco’s hands grasp his hips and drag him back against Draco’s body. His back to Draco’s front. Harry dropped the soap and reached to cover both of Draco’s hands with his own. He pressed down, trapping Draco’s hands. He didn’t want him changing his mind and moving away. 

Far from moving away, Draco leaned his head forward and started grazing his teeth along the side of Harry’s neck. At the same time he rocked his hips gently so that his hard dick slid back and forth between Harry’s arse cheeks. A shudder ran through Harry’s body at the sensations Draco was creating. “Draco!” Harry gasped. His own cock was hard and aching now too. 

Harry wanted, he ached, and he needed Draco. He needed more, but he wasn’t sure what it was. He twisted himself around, the warm water helping his skin to slide over Draco’s. Draco’s hands were still on his hips, but this time he was facing him. Harry rested his hands on Draco’s shoulders to steady himself. 

He looked into Draco’s eyes trying to read his expression. His eyes were a stormy grey, and they glittered with determination. His fingers tightened, pressing into Harry’s wet skin. Draco wasn’t moving and Harry didn’t know what to do. “Are you mad at me?” Harry asked, still trying to figure out Draco’s mood. 

“Harry,” Draco rasped. “Do I look angry?” 

“Yeah, you kind of do,” Harry whispered back. 

“Oh, for fucks sake!” Draco moved one hand to the nape of Harry’s neck and the other to the small of his back and he dragged him forward until the full length of their bodies were touching. “Does this seem like I’m mad at you?” 

Harry could feel the wild beat of Draco’s heart where their chests were touching, and his hard cock was pressed into Harry’s stomach. “No?” Harry ventured. 

“You daft man,” Draco murmured before pressing his lips against Harry’s. He brushed them back and forth against Harry’s mouth, and then his tongue swept out and started tracing along the seam of Harry’s lips. 

“Oh!” Harry parted his lips and Draco’s tongue slipped inside, twisting and tangling with his own. His hands slid over the warm, wet skin of Draco’s back and stopped on the firm slopes of his arse. He pulled Draco closer and rocked his hips causing his dick to rub against Draco. Pleasure spiked through Harry. He pulled his mouth away from Draco’s and tried in vain to catch his breath. “Feels so good,” he panted against Draco’s mouth. 

Draco captured his lips again and fucked his tongue in and out of Harry’s mouth. He turned them both and then slowly moved forward so Harry was backed up against the wall of the shower. Draco pushed a leg in between Harry’s, forcing Harry to spread his legs to make room. Then he pressed his thigh against Harry’s cock and rocked. “Yes, yes! Don’t stop,” Harry whimpered. 

“Harry.” Draco’s voice shook. He ran his hands down Harry’s arms and then threaded their fingers together. He lifted their joined hands to press against the tiles above Harry’s head. Draco continued the press of his thigh and moved his mouth to suck at Harry’s neck. All Harry could do was moan and squirm as he was pinned against the wall and pleasured. 

Harry threw his head back, a steady stream of “fuck yes,” “don’t stop,” and “please, Draco” falling from his lips. He thrust his hips as hard as he could, rocking into Draco’s thigh. 

Draco moved their hands so that he was now holding both of Harry’s wrists with one hand, still pinned against the wall. He took his free hand and gently held Harry’s jaw, tilting his head so Harry was once again looking him in the eyes. “I’m going to make you come now.” Draco’s voice was low, and his words made Harry’s dick twitch. He slowly dropped his hand from Harry’s face. Draco stepped back and trailed his hand down his chest pausing to pinch at Harry’s nipple. Then Draco moved lower, softly dragging his nails across Harry’s stomach and down through his happy trail. 

“Please, please Draco,” Harry begged mindlessly. He was so primed it wasn’t going to take much to tip him over the edge. Draco’s fingers finally reached his dick but they only traced over it lightly. Harry writhed against the cold tile wall, spreading his legs and arching his back. “Please!” 

Draco looked down and Harry followed his gaze, watching as Draco wrapped his hand around both their cocks. The pressure on his cock was such a relief Harry sagged against the wall. Draco moved both his legs between Harry’s. Harry lifted his leg to wrap behind Draco’s leg, securing the other man to him. Draco’s hand had started to squeeze and pull both dicks. Pleasure filled every part of Harry’s body, as he thrust into Draco’s hand. He was close, so very close. 

“Come for me, Harry,” Draco commanded and that tipped Harry over the edge so that he was coming hard and shooting all over Draco’s hand. Harry watched while Draco released Harry’s cock and stroked his hand, still covered in Harry’s cum, over his own dick. Draco leaned in and gave Harry a very messy kiss, more teeth and panting breath than anything else. “Harry!” Draco moaned and shuddered as he came, shooting all over Harry’s stomach. 

Draco let go of Harry’s hands but stayed pressed up close against him. Harry wound his arms around Draco’s neck and rested, too depleted to do anything else. Draco slid his arms around Harry’s back and held him tightly. They stayed like this for a long time, motionless, just holding each other closely. Finally, they stirred. Draco pressed a kiss to Harry’s temple and stepped back. Once he was assured that Harry could stand on his own, Draco turned off the water and reached for a towel. 

Harry was in such a daze that he just stood there while Draco tenderly dried him off. His face, his arms and legs, his back and his chest. Harry leaned against the bathroom wall, with a towel draped around his neck, while he watched Draco dry off himself. This was the first real look he was getting at Draco’s body since they had been pressed so closely in the shower. Draco was a bit taller than Harry, but where Harry was built with thicker stockier muscles Draco was all long lean lines and curves. He had muscles but they were lean and graceful. In short he was just as beautiful as Harry had expected, and it made his mouth water and his dick stir just to look at him. 

“Let’s go back to bed,” Harry suggested on impulse. He wasn’t all that hungry and he had barely gotten to touch Draco at all. Draco fixed him with another enigmatic stare, but he nodded in agreement. They left their wet towels in the bathroom for the elves to handle. Harry took Draco’s hand and pulled him back to their bed. They tumbled together into the sheets. Harry decided that the feel of Draco’s bare skin against his own was one of the best things he had ever felt, and he thought that this was something he wanted to feel every day. Now he just had to convince Draco. 


	7. Chapter 7

In Harry’s humble opinion, Saturday had been the best day of his life. The day had been spent entirely with just the two of them. They had endlessly explored each other’s bodies. No square inch had been left untouched, unstroked, unkissed, and unlicked. Harry had lost count of the number of orgasms he had had, and of the number of times he had watched Draco’s face suffused with his own pleasure. 

They had taken one short break, huddling under the invisibility cloak to sneak down to the kitchens and stock up on food. They brought the food back and kept it under Stasis Charms to stay fresh. 

Other than that, it had been just the two of them. They had ignored the knocking on their door when it came, and then ignored the giggling that followed when Harry shouted at them all to, “Go away!” 

But during their day of bliss, there was one thing that they hadn’t done. Well, make that two things that they hadn’t done. Firstly, they hadn’t fucked. Like in the arse. Harry wasn’t sure why they hadn’t. Draco had slipped his fingers inside him a couple of times, and that had felt really good. But they hadn’t gone farther than that. 

The other thing they hadn’t done was talk. Harry still had no idea how Draco felt. About any of this. Was he really interested in Harry, or was this a case of pure expediency? Harry was there, and he conveniently liked dick. Would any of this have happened without the curse? 

Every time Harry had thought about asking, his throat had closed up with fear of what he might hear as Draco’s answer. Draco hadn’t asked any questions either. Mostly their mouths were too busy to talk. 

Now it was early Sunday morning. The window was filled with the grey light of dawn. Draco was still asleep. He was facing Harry, his right arm slung around Harry’s waist and their legs tangled together. He looked so breathtakingly beautiful that it made Harry’s chest ache. His pale lashes lay on his cheeks. His pink lips were parted and slightly chapped. His straight and slightly pointy nose fit the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones. All of it put together, captivated Harry. 

He lifted a finger to gently push back a lock of hair that had fallen across Draco’s eyes. Draco murmured something Harry couldn’t understand and moved closer to Harry. He pushed his face into Harry’s neck, and just seemed to burrow there. Harry’s heartbeat stuttered before falling back into a normal rhythm. Was this love? Harry thought this might be love. He realized, quite fiercely, that he would do anything to protect the man in his arms. Anything at all! 

Harry held a sleeping Draco in his arms until the sun had moved well up into the sky. And while he held him, he thought. He thought about what it would be like if Draco loved him back, what their life could be like, what a team they would make. 

He daydreamed about a cottage in the country, surrounded by woods and meadows. He imagined the two or three dogs and the one ornery cat that they would have. And he fantasized about tow-headed babies with green eyes. 

Harry was so caught up in his dreams that when Draco finally stirred, he was still a bit disoriented. Even so, when Draco made a motion to push away from him, Harry tightened his arms and mumbled into his hair, “I like you right here.” Draco relaxed back into Harry’s embrace and Harry heard him sigh. 

With Draco’s movement, Harry once again became aware of their nudity and was distracted once again by feeling Draco’s silky limbs against him. He had resolved that they would finally talk today, but now all he wanted to do was to touch Draco everywhere. Maybe Monday would be a good day for them to talk? 

Harry slid his hand down Draco’s spine, delicately tracing each vertebra, pausing to stroke the small of his back. He was gratified by the small sounds of pleasure Draco was making and how he pressed himself even closer to Harry. This was one of Draco’s pleasure spots, he had discovered yesterday. Harry had spent a lot of time licking and sucking him there. 

Harry continued the movement of his hand, this time going lower to cup the soft skin of Draco’s arse cheek. It fit perfectly in his palm. Draco moaned some more and pressed his hardening cock against Harry’s hip. “You feel so good,” he whispered. Harry moved his fingers until the brushed along Draco’s crack, slowly, gently, back and forth until Draco whimpered and pushed his arse back toward Harry’s fingers. 

Wanting more contact, Harry pulled Draco over on top of him and pushed at his legs until they were spread on either side of his hips. He had arranged Draco exactly as he wanted him with his legs and arse spread, giving Harry access, and his hard dick trapped against Harry’s stomach. Draco clutched at Harry’s shoulders and buried his face in Harry’s neck, giving him kisses and love bites. Harry moved both hands down to Draco’s arse cheeks, stroking and squeezing them. 

Loud banging on their door echoed around the small room. “Harry! Come on! You need to get up. Both of you! Dumbledore wants you both up in his office. Immediately!!” Ron’s voice carried easily through the solid wood. 

At Ron’s words, Harry’s arms tightened reflexively around Draco who stiffened in his embrace. “Draco . . . I . . .” Harry began. 

“Oi! Harry! Come on, get out of that bloody bed! You need to go. Now!” impatience rang through Ron’s voice. 

“We need to dress. Let me go, Potter,” Draco said without meeting Harry’s eyes. 

“But . . . I, er, I wanted to talk,” Harry tried again. 

“We can talk later.” Draco pushed away from him more forcefully and this time moved out of his embrace. When Draco moved off the bed and started to dress, the bond tugged at Harry until he too left the bed and moved over to the wardrobes. They dressed without talking. Draco put on a button up shirt, pressed trousers and his school robes. While Harry threw on jeans, a t-shirt and a pair of trainers. 

Harry stood by and watched while Draco fussed with his tie and the folds of his robes. Finally, he broke the silence. “We should go now, Draco.” Draco looked over to him and gave him a short nod. 

They didn’t stop to speak to any of their friends as they made their way out of the common room. Before they knew it they were standing in front of the door to Dumbledore’s office. Harry was frozen. He didn’t want to pop the bubble of bliss that had surrounded them yesterday. He didn’t think he wanted to hear what his Headmaster had to say. He didn’t want his bond with Draco to end, but he also didn’t want the other man staying with him because he was forced to. There was no way for Harry to win. 

When Harry just continued to stand motionless in front of the entrance, Draco took the step forward and knocked on the door. “Come in,” Dumbledore’s voice rang out. Bill Weasley and Professor Thropwaite were both seated in front of Dumbledore’s desk. At their entrance, Dumbledore summoned additional chairs for Harry and Draco. “Please come and sit,” he directed. 

Harry sat cautiously on the very edge of his chair. He badly wanted to reach out and grab Draco’s hand, but he didn’t think that would go over very well with the other boy and he wasn’t up to a public rejection right now. Instead, Harry twisted his fingers together and focused on the hard edge of the chair digging into his thighs. 

“I’m sure you both are eager to hear our news,” Dumbledore began. “Mr. Weasley, why don’t you explain?” 

“Oh, sure. Well, we have been able to trace the magical signature on the cursed object to Advard Bulstrode,” Bill informed them. 

Draco noticeably blanched, before setting his facial features back into an expressionless mask. “Bulstrode? Related to Millie?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Bill said softly. “Her father.” Bill’s eyes went back and forth between Harry and Draco. After a quick look at Draco, Harry looked down at his tangled fingers. 

“Why?” Draco asked, his voice cracking slightly. Harry had to squeeze his fingers together, in order to stop himself from reaching out to him. 

“He was angry, Draco,” Bill said gently. “It was meant to punish you for your failure to The Dark Lord and how you helped Harry in the final battle.” 

“And Millie?” Draco had now fallen to staring at his own hands too. 

Thropwaite chimed in, “She smuggled the cursed object into my classroom, and performed a Suggestion Charm to get me to deliver it to you.” 

Draco nodded, still not lifting his gaze. 

“She and her father have been turned over to the Aurors,” Dumbledore added. They all sat for a minute listening to the clock ticking and letting this information sink in. 

“I do have some good news though,” Bill said brightly, trying to lift their spirits. “I have developed the counter-curse and I will be able to sever the bond.” He smiled and looked very pleased with himself. 

Harry tried to smile but he was sure it looked more like a grimace. He was glad he hadn’t eaten any breakfast because he was so nauseated he was sure he would have just thrown it up. “Great,” he forced out through gritted teeth. 

Bill’s smile faded when he noticed neither Draco nor Harry were smiling at this news. “Or . . . we can just leave it if you prefer?” 

Silence filled the room once again, and Harry risked a quick look at Draco. He had his head down and his eyes closed, and he looked miserable. He needed Draco to choose him, Harry realized. They would have to sever the bond so that they could then choose each other. “No, we’re ready. You should do it,” Harry’s voice came out steady much to his relief. 

“Let’s move over here.” Bill stood up and moved to the center of the room. Harry and Draco followed him. “I need you to face each other and hold hands,” Bill instructed. 

Harry reached out and took both of Draco’s hands in his and enjoyed the pleasure that washed over him with this small act. He threaded their fingers and tugged, hoping to get Draco to look at him. Draco flicked him a quick glance, his grey eyes were flat and emotionless. Harry’s heart started breaking. Bill started chanting a spell and a strange blue light swirled around them, then abruptly it was gone. 

“You can drop his hands,” Bill spoke to both of them. Draco pulled his hands back and Harry let them go. Harry didn’t feel any differently than he had just a moment before. “Go stand by the door, Harry,” Bill directed. “Let us know if you start to feel any pain.” He looked from Harry to Draco. 

Harry walked away from Draco and went to stand by the door. “No pain,” Harry said bluntly, not willing to talk about the emotional pain he was feeling. 

“Good,” Bill said. “See if you can make it to the main corridor? And then come back.” 

Harry went down the spiral staircase, and even though his eyes burned with unshed tears, there was no bond pain at all. It had worked. He and Draco were no longer bonded. He returned to Dumbledore’s office and found the Headmaster and Draco huddled together and speaking in hushed tones. “It worked,” Harry’s words came out sounding bitterer than he had intended. He knew he should thank Bill but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. 

Reading the room, Bill merely nodded in assent. If that’s all, I’ll head back to the Ministry? Headmaster. Thropwaite.” Bill nodded at each man. “Malfoy.” He clapped Draco on the shoulder and gave him a brief squeeze. Then he moved to Harry and wrapped his arms tightly around the younger man. “Remember that you are a Gryffindor and be bold,” he whispered into Harry’s ear. “Faint heart never won fair gentleman!” Then he stepped over to the Floo and was gone. 

Dumbledore cleared his throat to break up the silence that had descended over the room. “Yes, well . . . I’m sure you both wish to get back to normal as quickly as possible. Your trunks have already been moved back to your original dormitories. Do you have any questions for me?” His piercing gaze fell on each man in turn. “Alright then, off with you both,” he dismissed them both. 

 


	8. Chapter 8

After they left Dumbledore’s office, Harry had tried one more time to talk, but Draco had brushed him off and had disappeared for the rest of the day. Harry hadn’t wanted to return to the dorm and face the well-meaning questions from his friends. So he spent the rest of the day in the Owlry with Hedwig. After an hour he hardly noticed the smell anymore. 

He moved through his days as if in a trance. His attention split between watching Draco and cataloging all of his memories with the other man. His grades were dropping and he was losing weight, but he couldn’t care less. Draco never even so much as glanced at Harry, much less had any kind of interaction with him. It was clear that he just wanted to put the whole bonding behind him. Harry wished that he could too, but even though they were no longer bonded, every particle in his body screamed out for Draco Malfoy. 

It had been four weeks since their bond was broken and this Friday night his friends were being even more persistent than usual. They had routed him from the Owlry and then plied him with Firewhisky. Now they were dragging him back to the eighth years' common room. “I just want to sleep you guys, what’s so important?” Harry asked. 

When he saw the circle of students sitting on the floor, the dread made its way through his alcohol-soaked brain. “No,” he whispered in horror. 

“Merlin, Blaise! What is so damned important?” Draco’s voice rang over the room as he, Pansy and Blaise emerged from the corridor leading to the boys’ dormitories. 

Harry’s panic-stricken eyes met Draco’s across the wide room. What the hell was happening? Draco was shaking his head no in slow motion, but that didn’t stop Pansy and Blaise from dragging him into the circle. 

“Come on, Harry,” Ron said as he dragged Harry over to sit in the circle. “It's time for Truth or Dare.” Hermione set the charms so that the hands of anyone who lied would turn bright green for 24 hours. Several bottles of Firewhisky appeared and Harry looked over toward Blaise, sure he must be behind that detail. 

The first few questions seemed very tame and lulled Harry into a false sense of security. Then it was Hermione’s turn. “Harry!” She turned to him. “Truth or dare?” 

Remembering the dared kiss with Draco, Harry was determined to stay away from dares. “Uh . . . truth?” 

“Have you ever been in love?” Hermione’s voice rang out and all eyes turned to Harry. 

Harry was sure this must be a trick but he couldn’t really think straight. “Er . . . yes.” Harry kept his eyes focused firmly on the floor in front of him. “Ron!” he picked the next victim. “What’s the best prank you’ve played?” 

Ron spun a fifteen-minute long tale of how he had booby-trapped Professor Flitwick’s desk with billywigs and imps. Then he turned to Draco. “Malfoy, truth or dare?” 

Draco, who had been looking away during Ron’s tale, now pinned him with his steely gaze. “Truth,” he answered through gritted teeth. 

Ron continued, “Have you ever been in love?” 

Harry’s jaw dropped along with Draco’s. What was Ron doing? 

Draco’s eyes were like ice chips, as he stared Ron down. “Yes,” he hissed. Draco turned to Pansy to get the attention off of him. “Pansy, truth or dare?” 

She smiled sweetly at him and said, “Dare!” 

Draco hoped to put an end to this nonsense. “Pansy, I dare you to not take a single drink until the end of this game.” 

“Fine,” Pansy pouted. “Harry.” She turned the attention back on him. “Truth or dare?”

Harry panicked. Any dare Pansy Parkinson would assign him was bound to be humiliating, “Uh . . . truth.” 

Pansy’s eyes sparkled and a feral smile graced her lips. “Are you in love with anyone right now?” 

Don’t look at Draco, don’t look at Draco! Harry tightened his jaw and pressed his hands into his thighs. “Er . . . ah, well . . . I don’t, or I mean . . .” Harry took a deep breath. There was no way out of this. “Yes,” he gave in and told the truth. Harry cleared his throat. “Uh . . . Neville, truth or dare?” 

Harry must have asked him a question, and Neville must have answered but Harry didn’t remember any of that. All of a sudden Neville shocked Harry back into awareness. “Draco, truth or dare?” 

What was happening? Why was everyone, even Neville, only asking questions of him and Draco? 

“Truth,” Draco spat out. 

“Are you in love with anyone right now?” Neville asked timidly. 

Draco just glared at Neville for a good long minute. Draco’s voice when he finally spoke was dark and full of anger, “Yes.” 

Harry’s mind raced. Draco was upset and angry and that hurt Harry's heart, and who was it that he was in love with? Was that the reason why the bond had bothered Draco? Because he was in love with someone else? 

“Who?” the question burst out of Harry before he could stop it. Everyone swung their gaze from Draco to Harry, like they were watching a Muggle tennis match. Harry felt he needed to clarify what he meant. “Who . . . who are you in love with? 

Everyone’s gaze swung back to Draco. Harry held his breath while waiting for Draco’s answer. 

“Potter, er . . . Harry . . . we shouldn’t do this here,” Draco’s voice was low and urgent, but it did not mollify Harry. 

“No, no! We need to do this now. I need to know. Is he or she the reason you didn’t want the bond? Are they the reason you didn’t want me?” Harry struggled to keep the quaver out of his voice. 

Everyone had turned to look back at Harry while he spoke, but now they turned back to Draco to await his response. “Haaarrry,” Draco stretched out his name in a plea. 

Harry stood up, he couldn’t do this sitting down. “Because, here’s the thing,” all their classmates looked back over to Harry again, “I’m in love with you . . . I love you, Draco.” 

Draco stumbled to his feet on the other side of the circle. “You can’t . . . you don’t . . . you don’t know what you’re saying.” Draco spread his hands out. 

“I do.” Harry started across the circle. “I do know what I’m saying. I’m saying, I love you. You can be an arrogant prat, but you are also clever, funny and thoughtful. We aren’t under the bond anymore, but I just want to be with you. All the time.” Harry had reached the other side of the circle. He reached out with his right hand and cupped Draco’s cheek. Harry’s thumb brushed gently back and forth over the soft skin. 

Draco shook his head slowly back and forth. “Malfoys never get what they want.” 

“What do you want, Draco?” Harry whispered. 

Draco took a step closer towards Harry. “You,” Draco breathed out the word, “I want you.” 

“You have me.” Harry moved his hand to the back of Draco’s neck and pulled his head close. Their lips met and clung, their mouths opened and tongues tangled. The clapping and cheering of all of their friends and classmates finally penetrated Harry’s blissful bubble. He pulled his mouth back and looked around at all of the smiling faces. “Uh . . . glad you all approve, but I think we’ll take this elsewhere.” Harry took Draco’s hand and pulled him along toward the boys’ dormitories. He kept tugging until they reached his room, then he drew him over to his bed. Once they reached his bed, Harry lay back down and held out his hand. “Join me?” 

Draco crawled up onto the bed next to Harry. “Hi.” Draco gave Harry a tentative smile. 

Harry pulled his wand and closed the bed hangings, warding them shut and put up Silencing Charms. Then he stuffed the wand under his pillow and turned back to Draco. “Come here,” he said, pulling Draco into his arms. He fit perfectly. The weight of his body pressed Harry’s into the mattress. Draco propped himself up on his elbows so he could look into Harry’s eyes. Harry ran his hands over Draco’s shoulders and back, reveling in his ability to touch Draco wherever he wanted. “I love you.” Harry smiled up at Draco. 

The smile slowly faded from Draco’s mouth. His grey eyes gazed intensely into Harry’s green ones. “I love you . . . Harry. I never thought I would get to say that.” Draco bent his head for a kiss, caressing Harry’s lips with his own. 

They broke off the kiss in order to catch their breath. “Well, you can say it as much as you like because I am never going to sick of hearing it,” Harry smiled adoringly at Draco. 

Draco smiled back. “I love you, Harry James Potter.” 

Harry’s heart ached in a good way and he held Draco tighter to him, then they got back to the important business of showing each other their love. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You can show your appreciation for the author in a comment below. ♥
> 
> This work is part of HD Erised, an on-going anonymous fest. The creator will be revealed January 7th.


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